


Offer You a Tshirt

by orphan_account



Series: Collection of short fics [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Merlin Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin folded his arms and put on his best pout. “My cock’s cold.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offer You a Tshirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suchgreatheights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchgreatheights/gifts).



> Mindlessly written at 12am for my friend Steph, who was very ill and wanted something modern AU and Merthur.
> 
>  _I would offer you a t-shirt_  
>  And you would stay another night  
> \- All Time Low

Merlin groaned into the pillow and shifted his hips a little, enjoying the dull ache of bruises where Arthur’s fingers had dug into his skin. The bed sheets were sticky and hot beneath him, but his bare arse was sticking up into the cold air, and he was pretty sure he could feel himself breaking out into goosebumps. Sex with Arthur had proven to be a high-energy, panting, sweaty sort of affair, but it made the empty space when he rolled away from Merlin feel like the loss of a limb.

It seemed safe to assume it was only the warmth Merlin missed. It’d only been two weeks since they’d begun this whatever-it-was, so he couldn’t already have started feeling desperately, heart-wrenchingly empty without Arthur’s fingers on him, could he?

Granted, their’s wasn’t exactly a casual fling, it was more like a friendship woven into their hearts, which had suddenly progressed to a drunken make-out that Merlin was pretty sure had destroyed a third of his brain cells. Now, it was an endless stream of sex and coffee and groping and blow jobs and lunch out, then kissing and laughing and poking and bottled beer poured into champagne glasses as they lounged around naked, watching the newest episode of _House_.

“Hnggfh,” Merlin said, lifting his head and swatting Arthur’s shoulder lazily. Arthur simply grunted and kept his eyes squeezed shut, so Merlin made a few more incoherent, grumbling noises and straightened his arms out, propping himself up. He slowly started shifting across the bed until he could place his feet flat on the floor, and brace himself for the long journey to vertical.

“Whadd’ya... Where-- where you goin’?” Arthur mumbled, reaching out to run clumsy fingers over the base of Merlin’s spine.

Merlin bent over double to snatch a sock up from the carpet, and said, “Home.”

“What?” Arthur sounded much more awake all of a sudden. The bed shook a little as he pushed himself up onto his hands. “But I-- you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Merlin’s brain didn’t quite feel _together_ enough for this conversation. “And I need to get home, where there are clean clothes and toothbrushes that belong to me.”

There was a rustle of linen behind Merlin, and suddenly Arthur’s weight had lifted from the bed, and he was rooting around in a drawer against the opposite wall. He worked silently, tossing aside the odd jumper or pair of boxers, until he finally smiled, “Here we go!” and pulled out a red t-shirt.

Grinning, Arthur turned back to Merlin and waved the t-shirt in the air before throwing it down beside him on the mattress. “There,” Arthur said, his voice almost defiant. “Now you can stay.”

“But--” Merlin began hesitantly, and Arthur interrupted him.

“I know you, Merlin. If you go home, you’ll fall asleep and you won’t come back.”

“Sometimes sleep is good, y’know!” Merlin told him, eyeing the t-shirt warily. “Once upon a time, I actually got it on a regular basis.”

“Pff,” Arthur rolled his eyes as if he knew with utmost certainty that Merlin would always pick sex over sleep in a heartbeat. “Just put the bloody t-shirt on and stay, _Mer_ lin. You know I hate my bed without you in it.”

That, right there, was _probably_ the reason Merlin gave up on fumbling with the twist of fabric in his hands that _claimed_ to be a sock, and reached for Arthur’s old t-shirt. The tone of Arthur’s voice was snooty and arrogant, as always, but that didn’t mask the fact Arthur was trying to say he would _miss_ Merlin if he went home for some supplies and a power nap. It meant something-- Merlin didn’t dare think what, but definitely _something._

Merlin stood up and shook the folds out of the t-shirt, then pulled it over his head. It smelled like washing powder and Arthur, and his mind was quickly cast back to the last time he’d worn Arthur’s clothes. It’d been a month before, give or take a few days, and Merlin had been sitting on the floor in Arthur’s kitchen, wrapped in Arthur’s giant grey hoodie, because they’d made the mistake of trying to cook chilli while _Dave_ was having a Comedy Stand-Up night, and there had been... explosions. Explosions and red stains that would never, ever come out.

“It looks like you could hide a whole person in there!” Arthur had chuckled, tugging at the folds of loose fabric bunched around Merlin’s stomach. “How much do you actually _weigh_?”

“I weigh enough!” Merlin had squawked, feeling a blush on his neck, and he remembered foolishly telling himself that it was just because he hadn’t flirted properly in three months, and because that one night in the pub with Gwaine had thrown him into something of a bicurious pandemonium. It hadn’t been because of Arthur. It hadn’t been because of _feelings._

“Seriously,” Arthur had carried on, oblivious to Merlin’s embarrassment, and, looking back, Merlin was incredibly grateful for Arthur’s particular brand of ignorance. “I bet there’s enough room for a whole other bloke in there.”

“Shut up,” Merlin had shoved Arthur, but his grin had betrayed him, and before he knew it he’d been pressed up against the fridge, breathless with laughter as Arthur tried to burrow into the hoodie alongside him, if only to prove that Merlin was, indeed, _too_ skinny. Neither of them had really expected it to work, so when it did, and they found themselves squished together, chest to chest in the kitchen with tousled hair and pink cheeks, there had been something of an awkwardly comfortable giggle, then more wriggling to separate again.

That definitely hadn’t been the _start_ of things. It had tortured Merlin for at least three days afterwards, but was now one of those moments Merlin could look back on fondly, because he and Arthur were finally sharing toothbrushes and eating each other’s pot noodles straight out of the pot while they cuddled on the sofa... Not to mention the fucking. There was quite a bit of fantastic fucking, too.

When Merlin’s head emerged from inside Arthur’s red t-shirt, it was to find himself still standing half-naked in the middle of Arthur’s room, being rather blatantly ogled. He bit the inside of his cheek, ran a hand through the hair that was sticking to his forehead and pulled the t-shirt down to cover his stomach. Or, at least, to cover as much of him as it could.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Merlin scowled. The t-shirt was far too wide for him, and its hem only _just_ fell in line with his belly button. “I look like a teenage girl in the fucking 1990s.”

“No, Merlin, you really, _really_ don’t,” Arthur was smirking, the bastard, as his eyes raked up and down Merlin. “But now I remember why I keep that one stuffed at the bottom of the draw.”

Merlin folded his arms and put on his best pout. “My cock’s cold.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Arthur stomped around the edge of the bed and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders. “ _I want you to stay here for another night_ ,” he said, annunciating every word in what Merlin thought was a pretty patronising display of patience. “If I have to spend my time warming your cock in order to get what I want, then so be it.”

There wasn’t really much Merlin could say to that, so he just nodded and squeaked, in a very manly fashion, before scrambling back into bed so fast he smacked his toes, shins and elbows on at least three different pieces of furniture.


End file.
